


Pretty

by Laylah



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Aftermath, Disasters, Gen, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:04:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the evening there's a bonfire, made up of all the stuff too broken to salvage, so the dead can be sent off. Braska takes off his shoes and that bulky robe, goes down to the beach, and makes the fire dance with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justira/gifts).



> From a 2010 prompt:
> 
> Auron, Braska, Jecht, in any combination. Romantic, platonic -- anything that showcases the close bond they have. If romantic, I would love first-time scenarios, but an established relationship is fine! However you work them, I'd love to see more about how Jecht takes to Spira and what he thinks of the fayth and summoning =)

They've waltzed into town in the wake of the big ugly, again. Feels like every place they go, Sin's just left, like it's taunting them, like it wants to keep reminding them how bad it needs to be stopped. So the first thing that means is the town—Jecht didn't catch the name, and anyway he has a hell of a time keeping them all straight—is a mess, and he and Auron spend most of the afternoon helping the survivors clean up wreckage.

Survivors, because that's the other thing Sin's visit means: more dead. While they work, Braska's been talking to the people, trying to console them. He's got the hard part, as far as Jecht figures. It's easy enough to carry scrap lumber, but how do you figure out what to say to a kid whose mom isn't ever coming home, or a girl who just lost the guy she thought she was going to marry?

But he does it, somehow, stays patient and calm and helpful no matter how upset the villagers are. And in the evening there's a bonfire, made up of all the stuff too broken to salvage, so the dead can be sent off. Braska takes off his shoes and that bulky robe, goes down to the beach, and makes the fire dance with him.

Jecht tries to stay out of the way for this part, mostly. They're not his people. He doesn't want to step on any toes. He finds Auron doing pretty much the same thing, sitting on a dune a ways off from the fire, holding that sake jug of his and not really drinking from it. Thinking about that makes Jecht kind of thirsty, but he's pretty sure all Auron would give him's a lecture, even if he weren't trying to quit the stuff. He sits down in the sand, and Auron gives him a wary look but doesn't say anything. Kid's a grumpy old man before his time.

For a little bit Jecht just sits there, quiet. He's pretty sure Auron doesn't want to talk about today any more than he does. It's not like dwelling on it will help anything. So they watch Braska instead. The bonfire swoops and dips to match him, and after a few minutes the pyreflies start to float up from the bodies laid out on the shore. They shimmer in the fading light, pale pink and blue and green, almost invisible when they drift too close to the fire. Jecht's probably seen it happen a half dozen times by now, but he's not used to it yet. Not sure he wants to be, either.

"It's pretty, huh," he says. Quiet, so it won't carry down to the rest of the village.

" _Pretty_?" Auron says, glaring at him like he's a Bomb about to go off. Or one of those nasty squelching things Sin leaves behind.

Jecht's too old to be put off by a dirty look or two. "Yeah. Pretty. Terrible, too, don't get me wrong." All those tiny lights, rising and spinning, the bonfire swaying like a dancer with each sweep of Braska's staff. All those lights that mean more kids have reasons to cry. "But it's still pretty. Seems like something like that...might make it a little easier to say goodbye, you know? Easier to believe they're going on to something better."

"I guess so," Auron says. "Once we finish this pilgrimage, it won't need to happen at all."

"Right." Should have figured the kid would rather have things in black and white, nice and straightforward. "That does sound a lot better than even the prettiest light show." Down on the beach, the last pyreflies are drifting off, the bonfire calming down into a normal flame instead of that wild dance. Jecht boosts himself to his feet, offering Auron his hand. "Come on, we better get down there and bully him into eating something before he passes out."

He expects Auron to give him some crap about speaking more respectfully about Lord Braska, but Auron surprises him this time, accepting the hand up with a nod. "I'll take care of Lord Braska. You see if anyone can spare us some food."

Man, if Auron's trusting him to talk to people on their behalf, they must really be doing better than Jecht figured. "Deal."


End file.
